Flow
by Chelle-sama
Summary: When an extraordinary young woman dies, two hearts break when they thought they couldn't.


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Disclaimer: I don't own Clow Read, or his guardians. I don't think anyone could own Madoushi but Madoushi herself. CLAMP and those CLAMP worked with to produce the manga, the anime, and the movies, hold all the copyrights I have so gleefully infringed upon. But since they made money off it, and I won't, I don't think they'll be too mad. 

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Dedication: Tsuin Circe. Who reads my poor attempts at humor, my frighteningly pretentious and affected love stories, and all my heavy-handed angst. 

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Notes: How could Clow _not_ love Madoushi? I bet he did. Crazy, star-crossed kids.

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Circe's Note: Slight bit-o'slash warning, my dulcets. Crazy, moon-struck Yue.

Flow

My only friend in Hong Kong has moved away, but someone he knew has written to me. I do not know who and I do not know when. Quick news that my friend has moved, a brief recounting of what has been happening in town, and buried in the middle, as though it were unimportant, the three words which I cannot seem to understand.

Madoushi is dead.

Just that, only that. Madoushi is dead. I hadn't known she was ill. If I had…if I had, I might have returned to Hong Kong. Not that she would have appreciated the gesture. More likely, she'd have cursed at me with her last breath. Her last breath. Madoushi is dead. She will not breathe again. She will not curse me. She will not get so mad at me that she is speechless with rage. I will never see her gray river-stone eyes flash with any emotion ever again. 

I simply can't understand this. I can't seem to breathe properly. I could, just a minute ago, I could breathe just fine. Just a minute ago Madoushi was dead. How could I not have known? How long has it been since these lines were written? Several weeks, at least, and just as likely several months. How could I have been content or happy or peaceful all this time? Surely I should have felt her passing. She is my most secret heart and the pattern of my soul. I love her beyond all else in this world. How is it possible that I didn't know the instant of her passing? I'm the most powerful sorcerer in the world. I created a new form of magic, two magical guardians, and I _didn't know_ Madoushi had died? 

She can't be dead. This writer must have meant another by that name. My Madoushi was strong and well when I left Hong Kong. She was calm and dangerous by turns, bright as the rising sun and still as mysterious as the moon, laughing with one of the children from town before making a very real effort to drown me. It was her birthday when I left, a coward to the end. She'd argued with me about accepting the gift I'd given her, something beautiful and graceful that reminded me of her. I would have known that my love had died. My heart would have shattered beyond hope and redemption the very moment of her death. 

Madoushi can't be dead. I never told her that I loved her - she can't have gone on without knowing my heart. She can't be dead because I need one last look into her glorious eyes, eyes I have been trying to find stones to match so I wouldn't miss her so much, but stones can't match her because Madoushi's eyes were alive and warm and constantly changing. She can't be dead; I need her to not be dead. I can't live like this, can I? Is it possible for a broken heart to beat?

I can feel Keroberos nudging himself under my hand, asking me what's wrong. Yue, asking me if we'll be going back to Hong Kong. He must have taken the letter. I didn't notice. My heart is still beating; but it hurts, it hurts so much. She _can't_ be dead. Deep inside the broken core of me, I know that she is. 

"No, Yue. There's no reason to."

Because she's dead. She is dead and gone and nothing I do will return her to me.

I can't face Hong Kong. It's empty without Madoushi. The funeral has already taken place, I know. I wonder if they buried her near the river? She loved water. She would have liked it there, where the water is ever flowing in its many moods. 

I will never have Madoushi, but perhaps…she can be found again. One day, someone like me may find her, or someone very like to her. Because life is always flowing onward. Like what my most precious person loved and was, herself, so like. Graceful and gentle, stormy and turbulent, beautiful but ultimately something that can never be held. Maybe that's why I never foresaw her death. 

"Water is ever flowing." 

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I don't think Master knows he spoke those words out loud. 'Water is ever flowing.' I'm sure he doesn't know that tears are coursing down his face. He's crying over the woman who hated him like poison - the fortune-teller Madoushi. He's never spoken of her to us, except to say that she had cause to dislike him for what he'd done to her livelihood, however unintentional. Keroberos was content with that, even if he didn't like it. I always felt that he wasn't telling us something. I didn't know I was so right.

I don't know what to do. I ache inside, but I'm not sure why. I want to comfort Master, but Keroberos is already doing that. I wouldn't know where to begin, anyway. I'm not good with emotions. Master created me to be strong, to be distant, unemotional, dependable - the cool head that prevails in the storm. He needs me to be that, but I can't do it right now. Maybe it's cowardice, maybe it's self-preservation, but I have to get out of here. The house is too small for so much grief. And this way, he won't be forced to see me fail at being what he needs.

So like some sick parody of a guardian angel, I perch in a tree on a hill and look down at Tomoeda. It's a nice, orderly little town, with straight roads that make little squares from up here. So different from Hong Kong's curving streets and warren of ally-ways, with dead ends and open squares where they're least expected.

Master didn't say what he was crying for. Maybe it wasn't for the Fortune-Teller. He never made any gesture, said any word, which indicated he thought of her at all. If he…if he _loved_ her, surely we wouldn't have come to Japan. We would have stayed near her, so Master could torment himself. He seems to like doing that. All he spoke of was water when he read the letter. Maybe it wasn't her. He never said he loved her.

My heart is beating, slow and heavy, as though reluctant. It's never done that before. It hums. It moves too fast to feel anything but a faint vibration. It hurts to beat so slowly. I hurt. Master loved Madoushi. He loves her now, even though she's dead. Even though she would never have returned his love. 

How could she _not_? The woman would have to be _stupid _to not see how good Master is, how kind and thoughtful. So carelessly _loving_. If she was so blind to who Master is, she didn't deserve his love. He should have loved someone more worthy, who would have returned his feelings. Not her. Not someone who wasn't in awe of what a beautiful person Master is inside, but who treated him as she would treat any other person she didn't like. Someone who was smart and pretty and could see through his every gesture. Almost every gesture. She didn't understand why Master gave her a birthday present. Of course she should have one, everyone should have a present on their birthday. That's what Master said. That's what I believed he meant. He wanted her to see how much he loved her. He _loves_ _her_.

Not me. Not in the way he loves her. Not the way I want him to love me. With his whole heart, with everything in him, his thoughts always coming back to me and making him smile. That's why we've been spending so much time near the springs and brooks, the ponds and rivers. Because he was looking for her. He never really looks at the moon. Not _really_.

I didn't know I was in love with Master. I didn't know that I, too, could cry. But I am. They aren't like his tears, warm and softly wet. These are diamonds, hard and cold with an inhuman beauty. But they are mine, and they flow. For Master, because of the sweetness and light that has gone out of his life, never to be regained. For Madoushi, who will never know he loved her, who might have learned to love him in return, making them both happy. 

And for myself, learning so much so quickly. I didn't know I could love. I didn't know I could hurt. I didn't know I could cry. I didn't know that I might never have the one I love best. But I know how Master feels. I know what it is to be human, if only for this one night. Tomorrow, I will be what Master needs me to be. Tonight, I will be what I can't help but be - in love, in pain, and wishing for things that will never be.


End file.
